


Blind Hearts

by bioticblackops



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Banter, Blind Date, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 17:43:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9335603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioticblackops/pseuds/bioticblackops
Summary: After returning from a tough mission, Aelin would like nothing more than a nice evening with the mysterious stranger she'd met online and had slowly been falling for over the last several months. That is until he suddenly stands right before her and she realizes that he isn't as unfamiliar as she'd expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some time ago I got the prompt "Rowaelin + blind date" and while wondering how to write that, a Modern AU suddenly formed in my head. I wanted to keep true to the way their relationship developed so they do start out like in HoF with a mutual dislike while still doing a "Blind Date" prompt. But for them to agree on a date with each other, they couldn't know that it was with each other...
> 
> So, anyway, this is what happened. Hopefully, I got them right! The story is seven chapters long and I already have all of them finished, the just need a bit of polishing. I intend to post a chapter a day every day this week.

"Wow, Galanthynius, I wasn't aware you could clean up so nice," a deep voice at the other end of the locker room yelled, followed by a wolf whistle and a laugh.

Aelin merely held her middle finger in the general direction of her fellow agents, ignoring them while she fiddled with her earrings. Lysandra laughed quietly while searching for something in the locker next to hers, shaking her head. 

"They are just jealous because they know you look damn fine and unlike you, they will go home alone tonight," she said, louder than necessary. Aelin rolled her eyes but couldn't help but shoot a short and grateful smirk at her friend. Lysandra was well aware how nervous she was. While the egging from their squad usually wasn't something that bothered her, today was different. Today she'd meet him. 

The man she'd texted with for the last several months and felt like she knew better than herself. The man she had never met, didn't even have a picture of, but who made her heart beat faster anyway. Not that she'd ever admit to that. It was bad enough seeing Lysandra's smug grin because she'd agreed to meeting the stranger she'd found through the app her best friend had installed on her phone, claiming she needed someone to get over her last boyfriend. She didn't need to know how big Aelin's interest in said stranger was and it should stay that way, at least for now.

Her interest had nothing to do with getting over Chaol, he was a chapter of the past. One she didn't regret but also one she knew had no future. They were just too different (and maybe to similar) in some regards. Chaol and her functioned as friends, less so than as a couple. Realizing that had hurt almost as much as the catalyst for their split but it was over. It had been over for so long that they had no problem meeting again here and there, just for a coffee to catch up. He already had a new girl making him happier than she might ever have. It was time for her to move on, too. If her job permitted it, at least. 

Before her mind could drift to more complicated matters, another body came into view, moving to her left while Lysandra still occupied her right. Aelin didn't need to look to know who was leaning on the locker next to hers: The last person she wanted to see right now.

"So, who lost a bet and had to go on a date with you, Princess?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, Whitethorn," Aelin bit back, unable to keep the annoyance from her voice.

"Sure. I'd like to know how you were even able to meet anyone considering how long the last mission was."

"Well, pity I won't tell you then, isn't it?"

Aelin closed her locker with a loud bang, revealing the person speaking as an annoying by-product. Commander Rowan Whitethorn, fellow spec-ops agent and biggest pain in the ass she'd ever encountered, was looking like he had no care in the world, letting his eyes wander over her. 

There was nothing lecherous in his eyes, just an assessment of the way she looked today, which was damn good in her own opinion. She'd chosen a simple black dress that emphasized her curves as well as muscles in just the right way. It wasn't too tight but just flowing enough to leave some things to the imagination. Like the question if she was wearing any underwear beneath it. She wasn't sure she really wanted to make that particular step tonight with a man she just met (ignoring how many months they'd already talked) but you never knew. Certain parts of her body told her they were more than ready to get back in the game.

Whitethorn's eyes returned to hers, a smug grin still on his lips. Just now she realized he'd cleaned up too, either for a date or for a night out with the others. It was their first night off in ages and they all planned to celebrate. The last mission had taken a lot from them and they'd earned it. They'd just returned and she hadn't even been to her apartment yet.

Whitethorn was wearing an elegant suit she hadn't even suspected he owned. It was black and a stark contrast to his unnatural white hair. It fit his tan, even better the dark tattoo on his face and neck, going downwards and vanishing in a green button-down shirt that made his eyes look even more intense. The whole ensemble did nothing to hide the muscles she knew were beneath. She hated to admit it but he looked damn fine himself. Not that she'd ever say that aloud. His ego was big enough without her adding to it.

Aelin shifted on her heels, drawing his eyes to her hips for the blink of a moment. For some reason she was feeling like she was wearing much less. Like he could see even beneath her skin.

Stop being ridiculous, Galanthynius.

Whitethorn was just opening his big mouth to try to ruin her night when her cousin Aedion decided to chime in and do the job for him.

"She's going on a blind date."

Aedion still sounded as pissed as the moment he'd found out about it from Lysandra. Aelin shot him a withering glance. He'd just thrown her to the wolves and he knew it. The attention of their whole squad was now on her. Fenrys grinned.

"A blind date?" He asked, eyebrows wiggling. "Like, through one of these hook-up apps?"

"Yes. You got a problem with that?" Aelin bit out but he just shook his head, trying to hide the laughter as he faced her aggressive mood. They both knew she could beat him up with her stilettos without even breaking a sweat. She was tempted to.

"Well, I do," Aedion grumbled, closing the buttons of his own shirt. 

"And yet, here I am, not caring at all."

"You don't know this guy, Aelin. He could be dangerous."

"Oh right! For a moment I almost forgot that I'm a highly trained killer working for the government and not some naive trusting girl who doesn't have several weapons strapped to herself."

Lysandra shot her an exasperated look. "Seriously, Aelin? You're armed?"

"Is that a serious question, Lys?"

Lysandra merely rolled her eyes before focusing her attention back on Aedion. The smirk playing around her lips was feral. Aelin had a bad feeling about whatever would be coming out of her best friend's mouth next.

"Don't worry, Aedion, Aelin will be safe. I put condoms in her purse."

"That is so NOT what I meant!" 

Aelin sighed and decided this was the perfect time to retreat. Despite all his bitching, her cousin trusted her and knew she'd raise hell if he so much as tried to meddle in her life. One person, though, didn't have these reservations. And he had been suspiciously silent during their little spat.

Turning back to Whitethorn, she found him still staring at her, an unreadable expression on his face. The smirk was gone and replaced with thoughtfulness instead. 

"What?" She asked, voice more than a bit irritable. "No comment from you how desperate I must be if I have to find a guy online instead of real life?"

He just stared at her. Aelin huffed, turning around to go to the restaurant they'd agreed on.

"Have fun."

The words almost made her stumble. No, not the words themselves, but rather the way they were said. Simple, without any sarcasm or bite. Like they came from another person. 

Aelin didn't turn around to make sure it indeed was Rowan Whitethorn wishing her fun on her date. Instead, she merely made a rude gesture over her shoulder and ignored the laughs of her squad as she left to finally, finally meet her date.


	2. Chapter 2

In hindsight, maybe opting for not swapping pictures had been a mistake. Whenever the door of the tiny Italian restaurant they'd opted for opened, Aelin jumped. Her eyes were wide and she tracked every movement from every person coming in as if they were a target. It was ridiculous. And embarrassing.

When she first set up her profile, or rather when Lysandra did, it seemed like a good idea. She wasn't looking for some quick release or fun but rather someone to talk to that was not armed to the teeth next to her in the field. Or one of her other friends who also were always armed to the teeth but just not with her in the field. Elide seemed to be the only normal one – if you could say that about someone dating Lorcan Salvaterre ...

The problem was that her looks often got in the way. And while she usually didn't particularly mind, just once she wanted to meet someone who wasn't drawn to her physically first. And then she'd met him.

Stumbling over his profile had been pure chance and since he hadn't been online in quite a while, she hadn't even expected him to answer. But something about the answers he'd given to the standard questions had sparked her interest more than with any other guy before. That he had (like her) opted not to show a picture of his face (or half-naked body as some guys did), also spoke for him. So she shot him a quick message. And to her big surprise, he had answered. Fairly quick. 

Her squad had been in the middle of an incredibly boring stake-out. She'd just gotten off her shift with Rowan Pain-in-the-Ass Whitethorn when she'd received the stranger's answer to her terrible attempt at flirting. They hit it off right away. Or at least she did. Considering that he was running late, maybe the attraction was one-sided.

So what if it is? It's just a guy.

Aelin was self-aware enough to see her own lie for what it was and sighed. With another quick glance at the door (closed), she picked up her mobile phone to check for the umpteenth time if she was at the right place. Just as she did, a message came through.

WingedWarrior: Sorry for being late! Needed to pick something up for you!

Fireheart: Trying to butter me up, Buzzard? ;-)

WingedWarrior: Just trying to make a good impression! Or tried ...

Aelin smiled down at her phone, her shoulders relaxing. She even ignored the opening door this time, not jumping out of her seat again. Maybe she could get through this with her dignity intact.

Fireheart: No worries, I'm not going anywhere. Our table is quite cozy.

WingedWarrior: In the back, right?

Fireheart: Yeah, right next to the aquarium. It has a very Romeo & Juliet vibe. Although I hope our story ends differently and not in a double suicide.

This time, no reply came. Aelin frowned down at her phone, wondering if she somehow overstepped with her joke. Usually, her Buzzard laughed about her darker sense of humor but maybe this time- 

"Fancy meeting you here, Galanthynius," a voice all too familiar said, making her heart stop.

Panicked she looked up, seeing all her fears confirmed in the insufferable face of Rowan fucking Whitethorn smirking down at her.

Nonononono, this couldn't be true! This had to be a bad dream! Of all the places he'd crash into tonight it had to be this little, out-of-the-way Italian restaurant she'd chosen for her date. She had to get rid of Whitethorn before he would ruin everything.

"Go," Aelin hissed, eyes darting to the door.

Whitethorn breathed a strained laugh. "You don't even want to know what I'm doing here?"

"No. Go." She wasn't taking his bait. She couldn't. Her Buzzard would be here any minute now and by then, Whitethorn had to be gone. If she had to kick him out herself, she would do it. She didn't care as long as he was gone.

"Wow, you really seem to like him if you are giving up on a fight for him," he teased but something in his voice seemed off. There was no fire, no malice, just curiosity. Aelin ignored it. She didn't have time for his games.

Instead, her eyes flickered back from the door to the man towering over her. 

"You know what? Yes. Yes, I do. I like him. A lot. Which is why you need to go before he comes and sees you lurking around, ruining everything per usual."

Again, Whitethorn was giving her a look she could not decipher, searching her face. For what she couldn't say. All she knew was that he hadn't moved an inch and time was running out. 

Aelin just opened her mouth to tell him, again, to finally fuck off, when Whitethorn beat her to it, stopping her heart for a second time with the words falling from his lips.

"Pity," he said, quietly. "I'm sure we could've had fun together, Fireheart."

Everything in her froze. Every single thought, every single hope, every single dream. It all froze before it crashed and shattered. The words echoed in her head but they didn't make sense. He couldn't know that name. He couldn't. She could count the people alive knowing her childhood nickname on one hand and he wasn't one of them. The only person calling her Fireheart now was ...

"No," Aelin whispered. No, this couldn't be happening. It didn't make any sense. There were no two people who were more different than her Buzzard and Rowan fucking Whitethorn, pain in her ass ever since she joined the squad years ago. Her Buzzard was funny, kind, gentle, understanding, teasing, and just on the right side of wicked. And Whitethorn was ... none of these things. He was gloomy and moody and rough and there was always a certain malice in the way he teased her. A malice that had now found a new zenith, it seemed.

And now he had the fucking gall to smile at her like nothing was wrong. Like this was all just some giant fucking joke to him.

"Surprise, huh?"

And with those words, Aelin saw red. Without another word, she jumped from her chair, almost knocking it over with the force she pushed it back. Then she gathered her bag and jacket, dead set on walking around Whitethorn and getting the fuck out of this restaurant. She needed air. She needed to clear her head and make sense of this mess. And most of all she needed distance to fall apart quietly without looking at the face of the man who had just ruined every single hope she'd harbored ever since the first time WingedWarrior had answered her message. 

She should've known. Should have known he was too good to be true, fit her just a bit too well. She should have known that it had to be nothing but a cruel joke by her squad to get a laugh at her expense. Before she could stop it, Aelin felt tears sting her eyes. She needed to get out of here before Whitethorn saw them fall and got a kick out of how well their prank had gone over.

Just as she tried to pass Whitethorn, giving him a wide berth as not to accidentally brush him, he tried to stop her by grabbing her hand. With a hiss, she tore away her arm. Startled Whitethorn took a step back, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. In the back of her mind, she registered that he was holding a beautiful bouquet of orange and red lilies that reminded her of a floral wildfire. 

"Don't touch me," she hissed loud enough to silence at least some of the tables around them. Great. This was just what she needed. To be the evening entertainment additional to being the joke among her squad. Embarrassment burned her cheeks. 

"Aelin-"

"Shove it, Whitethorn," she interrupted him, trying to ignore that it had been the first time he had called her by her first name. 

It should have been him, a quiet malicious voice in the back of her mind said. It should have been Buzzard saying that name tonight just as it should have been you learning and whispering his name. And his name shouldn't have been Rowan. It shouldn't have been Whitethorn.

"Aelin, please. I can explain."

"I don't want to fucking hear it. Go back to the others so you can have your laugh at stupid Galanthynius' expense who thought she'd find someone worthwhile with that stupid app. We're finished here."

Something akin to horror crossed his face but Aelin had already turned around again.

"This ... It's not like that, Fireheart."

At the sound of her nickname, Aelin spun around, ready to tear him apart.

"Don't you ever, ever call me that again! You have no right to call me that!" 

Whitethorn took a deep breath to say something else but Aelin didn't care to hear it. She just wanted to get as far away from him as possible.

"You know what, Rowan?" She put enough malice in his name that she could see him flinch despite trying not to. It didn't give her the satisfaction she'd hoped for.

"I expected many fucked up things from you. But I never expected you to be cruel."

And that shut him up. 

Aelin didn't wait for a reply anyway. She turned around, ignoring every pair of eyes settled on her and the little drama they'd just created, and fled the restaurant into the cool night that wasn't nearly as biting as the freezing cold that had turned her insides to ice.


	3. Chapter 3

Rowan had fucked up. He'd known as soon as he'd seen the look of pure terror on Galanthynius'... on Aelin's face when she'd looked at him. As soon as she had comprehended that he was her date for the evening. After that, all he could do was to try and somehow salvage what felt like a catastrophe in the making. It shouldn't surprise him that he'd ended up making everything worse. 

Never in a million years he would have expected the funny, charming, wicked woman he'd been texting with for the last several months to be the same woman he'd clashed with on an almost daily basis in real life for much longer. The same woman Lorcan loved to call "fire-breathing bitch-queen" which he not-so-secretly had always agreed with. Never in a million years he would have expected the night to end in her tears when she found out he was the one she'd nicknamed Buzzard. Never in a million years would he have expected it to hit him as hard as it did.

Rowan Whitethorn felt fucking awful. Not just because the evening he'd been looking forward to for weeks had turned into a disaster but also for the almost sleepless night it resulted in. He'd hardly been able to close his eyes. Instead, he'd opened and shut the app they'd messaged each other in more often than he'd liked to admit. In the end, he chickened out. It had been pretty damn clear Aelin didn't want anything to do with him. Although if it was because he was who he was or because she thought it had all been a cruel prank he didn't know. 

If he was being honest with himself, it stung that she thought he was capable of such cruelty. It spoke volumes of what she thought of him. And it gave an answer to the question if she'd still be willing to give it a shot after finding out who he was. 

Hell, it wasn't like it hadn't come as a shock to himself. Standing there in the locker room, listening to her slowly add piece after piece to a puzzle showing a very different picture than the one he had expected. When she'd left, he still had thought, hoped, that maybe he was wrong. That his Fireheart and Aelin the fire-breathing bitch-queen weren't the same person. 

Still, when he'd passed a flower shop on his way to the restaurant and saw those flowers that looked like a wildfire and reminded him of her, he couldn't help but buy them. Maybe, in the back of his head, he was convinced that a bunch of pretty weeds could get him on her good side if the worst came to pass. The lilies were now rotting in some dumpster and he was fighting one hell of a bad mood that he decided to take out on some training dummies at HQ. 

Despite being early, he wasn't the first one at the gym much to his irritation. Even though they were looking like hell from their night out, Fenrys, as well as his brother Connall, were already there. Both shot him a weird look as he came in.

"Oh no, not you too."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Rowan asked, trying to keep the bite out of his tone. 

"I can see that you're in a foul mood and to be honest, we already have enough of that with Galanthynius."

About to store his gym bag in his locker, Rowan froze. 

"She's here?" There were many questions he'd rather ask but this one seemed like the safest. He had no idea how much their squad knew. If Aelin had decided to rip them a new one because she thought they were involved in whatever had happened between them.

"Yeah. Seems like her date didn't quite go according to plan," Connall added, not looking up from his phone.

"She said that?"

"She didn't say anything. Walked straight in and started punching stuff. Didn't so much as look at us when we asked. It had to be a truly crappy date if she doesn't even react to some teasing."

Well, fuck. This complicated things.

"Lysandra is already on her way, probably dragging along Aedion. Maybe they can figure out what happened."

And it just got worse. 

"You called them?"

"No. Lys texted me if Galanthynius was around for her morning training yet. She hadn't answered any of the texts Lys send her. They had some kind of agreement to text each other to check in to make sure her blind date wasn't a mass murderer or something."

Rowan merely nodded but refrained from commenting. 

"Say, didn't you have some kind of big date, too, yesterday? I take it didn't go well either?"

Rowan just shot Fenrys a withering glare before shutting his locker with a bang and making his way to the gym.

"Gods, did anyone have a decent date yesterday?"

"Maybe he and Aelin had one with each other which is why they're both pissed right now," Connall commented dryly.

Fenrys' laugh was the last thing Rowan heard before the door fell shut and all of his attention zoomed in on the only other person in the gym. 

Punching away on a sandbag was the woman that had occupied his every waking moment of the last several hours. The last few weeks, actually, if it counted as he hadn't known it was her. It still felt odd to suddenly be able to add a face to the messages they'd exchanged. A familiar one at that. He'd never looked at Aelin as more as a co-worker. A comrade in arms at best and a bratty annoyance at worst. Now ... now things felt different. And not just because of what had happened yesterday. Now he knew a different side of Aelin, one non of their squad and maybe very few people in general knew. One he wanted to see more of no matter how much his brain tried to convince him it was a bad idea.

Aelin hadn't noticed him coming in so Rowan had a moment to study her. Her moves were short and aggressive. Every single one showed that it wasn't training she was after. Instead, they were an outlet for frustration and anger. Rage was in every strike, in every powerful move of her lithe body. 

She was wearing tight fitting pants and a sports bra that left little to the imagination. He'd seen her in less countless of times in the locker room and on missions when privacy was neither a concern nor an option. And yet, just as everything else, it felt different now. 

Sweat was glittering on her skin, running down her spine to vanish into the black pants. It was such a hypnotizing sight that Rowan tore himself away and forced his legs to move. He knew it was a bad idea, that she needed time, but he couldn't give it to her. He just ... couldn't. Not in their line of work where every mission could be the last. He couldn't live with the idea of her misunderstanding his intentions so badly that she thought he'd orchestrated all of this just as a cruel joke. No matter what happened between them, he needed to clear this up. He needed to make things right.

And with that, Rowan Whitethorn made a decision and stepped next to his Fireheart, ready to swap places with the punching bag.


	4. Chapter 4

Aelin knew it was him even before he stepped next to the punching bag she’d battered for the last twenty minutes. For a second she played with the idea of missing it on purpose and hitting him in the gut instead before she elected to ignore him and continue her workout. Although, to be quite honest, it was less of a workout and more of a “hit something until you are too tired to think” kind of thing happening right now. Because thinking was something she really didn’t want to anymore. Not after a long night of too much of it, leaving her hollow and aching in a way hat reminded her a bit too much of her breakup with Chaol.

No, you will NOT go down that road, she admonished herself before hitting the punching bag again, ignoring the presence of all her problems in the shape of one Rowan Whitethorn.

He was standing next to her, arms crossed over his broad chest while he silently watched her pummeling the sandbag. If he was trying to get a rise out of her, he was up for a big surprise. She had no intention recognizing his existence at all. Which was better for him, otherwise one of her fists in his gut was the nicest thing she intended to do to him.

As if he’d guessed her train of thought, Whitethorn chose that moment to break the tense silence between them.

“Imagining my face on that punching bag?” He asked quietly. Aelin chose to ignore it. Instead, she hit it harder.

A few more punches and she heard a sigh.

“Look, Aelin, about last night-”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she bit, voice breathless from the training. Her arms started to grow heavy and she knew she had to stop soon. Hopefully, Whitethorn would be gone by then.

“Maybe, but still you need to hear it.”

“What do I need to hear? I think it was pretty obvious what happened yesterday.”

“Was it?”

“Yes. You tricked me into thinking I met a decent guy just so you could turn up instead to have a laugh. Big fucking joke. Let’s laugh all about stupid, naive, desperate Galanthynius who can’t even find a nice guy in the real world. Did I get this right?”

“No, you didn’t.” His voice was strained. Aelin forced herself to concentrate on the punching bag instead of turning around to look at his face.

“Did it ever occur to you, Aelin, that maybe I didn’t expect you to be on the other end of those messages either? That you weren’t the only one looking forward to a date with a stranger they’d come to care about just to meet someone you did not expect?”

Her next hit didn’t have the same force behind it as it’s predecessor as Whitethorn’s words sunk in. To her shame, she really hadn’t considered that. At all. Had she been to quick to jump to conclusions because it was him? In all fairness, despite having worked together for so long, she did know fairly little about Rowan … about Whitethorn’s life. He kept to himself. If he wasn’t baiting her into a fight, that was.

The thought made Aelin hit the punching bag harder. She was about to hit it again when someone placed a hand on her shoulder to turn her around. Whitethorn’s face was enough to spike another wave of irritation in her that made her want to resume punching, just with a different sort of target in front of her. One that would feel much-deserved pain.

His face was serious, his hand warm on her shoulder. For the first time, she realized how much the combination of his white hair, green eyes, and tan skin reminded her of a forest in winter. Of pines and of home. The thought stung more than she wanted to deal with right now.

She rotated her shoulder, trying to get rid of his touch and turn away before he could see any of the emotions flickering over her face right now. He didn’t let go. Instead, she saw something play over his features as he seemed to come to a decision to whatever fight he was having inside of his mind.

“Go on a date with me,” Whitethorn said, his words sounding almost rushed. There was a slight red tinge to his cheeks, a faint blush almost getting lost in the tan of his face. His brows were furrowed as if he was aware and angry at the fact.

Aelin couldn’t help but stare at him, somewhat aware her mouth was hanging open. Whitethorn didn’t move an inch, didn’t squirm under her gaze. He stared back and waited.

She didn’t know how long they glared at each other when words finally fell from her lips.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No. Go on a date with me.”

“Why the hell would I do that?” Aelin asked, exasperated.

“Because you wanted to before you knew who I was. Because you promised me a date but vanished as soon as I arrived. You owe me one, Galanthynius.”

“I own you shit, Whitethorn!”

“Maybe you don’t own it to ME but you own it to WingedWarrior. To Buzzard.”

Aelin had to bite her lip. It felt so wrong to hear these names in Whitethorn’s deep timbre. So wrong to have the man she’d been dreaming of meeting for weeks be connected to the nightmare of her waking hours.

“What is that even supposed to mean?”

“Please correct me if I’m wrong but the reason you are so immensely pissed at me right now is because you like him. A lot, to use your own words. So much even that you didn’t want me to fuck it up for you when I showed up.”

“Get to the point,” Aelin pressed through her teeth.

“Well, I want to give you the date he’d have given you if you hadn’t bailed on him.”

“I didn’t bail-”

“You ran away. You saw his… my face and ran away. You didn’t give me time to explain or figure out what happened. You bailed.” He took a deep breath and surprised her with his next words. “Please, Aelin. Give me the chance to prove to you that it wasn’t some prank. That I meant every single thing I told you over the last few months. Please.”

“Why is this so important to you?” Aelin asked before she could stop herself. “You don’t even like me.”

A small, entirely unexpected smile played around his lips, transforming his whole face, shocking her into stillness. It made him look much younger, almost carefree. Beautiful.

Wait, what?

“It seems, Fireheart, that I didn’t even know you. And I would very much like to change that. If you let me.”

For a moment the honesty in his voice took her breath away. Whatever she had expected him to say, this wasn’t it. The whole situation set her mind reeling and she wasn’t sure how to deal with it.

You could deal with it by saying yes, a small voice inside of her mind told her and for a second she was very tempted to agree with it. What could be the worst that could happen?

Before another voice she’d either call “paranoia” or “voice of reason” could chime in to helpfully supply all the ways this could indeed go wrong, the door to the gym opened. Whitethorn’s hand fell away as if touching her burned him and she could feel the sudden loss of warmth on her shoulder like a hand print left behind. Still, Whitethorn didn’t step away from her, waiting for an answer.

“I’m here,” Lysandra gasped as if she’d run the whole way from her apartment to the gym. Aelin blinked. She broke her glaring contest with the man that was trying to turn her whole world upside down to look at her best friend. Lys was still in street clothes, as was Aedion next to her. Her cousin’s eyes were rushing over her body as if to see if something was amiss.

“What happened?” He asked and she could hear the readiness to beat someone up and defend her honor in his voice despite knowing she was more then capable of doing so herself. No matter of often she beat his ass, his need to protect hadn’t changed since they were children.

Lysandra’s eyes shifted between her and Whitethorn. Confusion and something too close to suspicion was written all over her face over his presence and proximity.

“Nothing.”

“What do you mean ‘nothing’?” Aedion gaped.

“I mean nothing happened. The date, it didn’t happen.”

Lysandra’s eyes widened, disappointment and pity for her friend falling over her face like a shadow. Aedion whereas breathed a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, something came up. We decided on a rain check. We’re going to meet tonight instead.”

In the corner of her eye, she could see Whitethorn going still. Aedion groaned just as Lysandra clapped her hands together.

“Oh thank the gods! If I had to listen to you gush about your precious-”

“Lys, shut up.”

“Aw, you’re no fun. Shopping?”

Aelin rolled her eyes. When had she ever said no to some shopping? “Yeah, sure.”

“Oh, and don’t forget to wear your lucky underwear tonight!” Lysandra grinned and winked, making the men around them squirm, although for different reasons. As Aedion muttered that he didn’t need to hear this, Aelin could feel Whitethorn’s attention burning into her skin. She refused to look at him.

“Lys, I don’t have 'lucky underwear’.”

Lysandra winked. “I know.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Aedion cursed.

“Here’s hoping,” supplied Lysandra helpfully. The desire to strangle her friend to make her shut up grew with every word that fell from her lips.

A cough brought Aelin’s attention back to Whitethorn and for a second she almost regretted it as the intensity of his stare hit her full force. She wanted to say something, anything, but nothing crossed her lips. Not when Whitethorn’s eyes flickered to them and lingered there. So maybe it was for the best that she hadn’t strangled her best friend as said best friend now was the saving grace that got her out of her stupor.

“When is he going to pick you up?”

“Seven. At my apartment.”

Whitethorn gave her a small nod, too tiny to spot if you weren’t looking at him.

“Plenty of time then to have a good old-fashioned girls’ day out and still make sure you look amazing enough for him to regret ditching you yesterday,” Lysandra chimed. She slung her arm through Aelin’s to pull her away from their squad mates, taking a sniff at Aelin.

“But first, a shower for you. You reek.”

“Gee, thanks, Lys,” Aelin said, tearing herself from Whitethorn’s gaze and letting herself be dragged along.

“Just telling you as it is. It’s best when he first smells your sweat after a roll in the sheets. It softens the blow. Before that, it’s kinda gross.”

“Lysandra!” Aelin hissed. She was by no way shy but suddenly their whole teasing felt different and not quite as innocent. Not with one of the centerpieces of it unknowingly in earshot.

Whatever the other woman said next fell on deaf ears as Aelin shot a short glance over her shoulder to take a last look at the man she’d agreed to meet tonight.

Whitethorn’s eyes were still on her and the intensity in them hadn’t changed one single bit. It stripped her bare in a way she hadn’t thought possible, in a way that took her breath away in the sweetest of ways. How had she gone from hating him so much that she pummeled a punching bag first thing in the morning to feeling her blood heat under his eyes in a matter of moments?

Before she could even attempt to answer her own question and start wondering what exactly she had agreed to, Lysandra dragged her into the locker room and shoved her to the shower. Cold would be a good idea.


	5. Chapter 5

This had not been a good idea. No, actually this had been the opposite of a good idea. This was the worst idea she'd had in a while, followed by the most awkward date in the history of awkward dates. If they hadn't ordered their food already, Aelin would have flat out asked him if they either dropped the whole thing or if he wanted to go back to his place (never to hers) and fuck to get the tension out of the way. As it was, both options were off the table. Which was a pity because Rowan Whitethorn looked damn good tonight.

He was wearing a different suit than yesterday. The fact that he actually owned more than one alone almost blew her away as he didn't seem like the type to care. It had a similar cut and color, although his button-up shirt was in a different shade of green. If possible, it made his eyes even more striking than they had been the night before. The soft light of the Japanese restaurant made his white hair almost glow, especially in contrast to his tan and tattooed skin. He looked like someone she'd enjoy undressing with more than her eyes. The fact that it was Whitethorn she had those thoughts about, shocked her into awkward stillness and killed all possible attempts at flirting she might otherwise have engaged in. 

Not that he was much better. Her squadmate turned date's eyes were glued to her whenever he thought she wasn't paying attention but found something else to look at whenever she turned back. 

There was a tension in the air that Aelin could hardly bear with and found even more difficult to name. They were both at a loss with how to deal with the situation. How did you deal with the fact that someone you could barely stand to work with 24 hours ago, suddenly turned into the one person you were desperately trying not to fall in love with because it was stupid and cliche to fall for someone you hadn't even met?

Not at all, seemed to be the answer as they were both doing horribly. Aelin still didn't feel like agreeing to this had been a good idea. Considering the constant frown on Whitethorn's face, he even might agree with her. For once. Yesterday he'd looked more at ease, that was for sure. The thought tore her from her stupor.

"Why weren't you more surprised to see me?"

The words fell so sudden, so sharply, from her lips, that Whitethorn actually startled, full attention snapping to her. 

"What?"

"Why weren't you more surprised to see me? Yesterday, I mean. Considering the situation, I'd expected you to-"

"Be more shocked? To run away?" A smile tugged at his lips. Aelin glared at him and he chuckled. Chuckled!

"The locker room."

Now it was Aelin's turn to ask: "What?"

"I heard what you said in the locker room. About your date."

"We were hardly the only people having a blind date over one of those apps that night. It's a big city."

"Still. There was a chance. I started considering some of the things you, well Fireheart, had said. About her life, her job that kept her travelling and out of touch so often. About things she liked and that you seemed to like too. About that annoying co-worker who is such a pain in the ass." The smirk turned into a wicked grin, so unlike the one he had in the field. Aelin wasn't able to tear her eyes away from it. 

"Just a lot of small things that fit too well together. It seemed ... possible."

"Did you consider not coming?" Aelin asked. Her voice quiet but steady. She already knew the answer to that question. Hell, it was a miracle he came. She'd probably turned and run if she'd figured out who was waiting for her in that restaurant. She did when she found out. 

Whitethorn hesitated which was answer enough. To her surprise, it stung.

"I thought about the implications," Whitethorn admitted. "It's not exactly a secret that you don't like me. And going on a date with someone you work with always bears a high risk. Even if there's a better foundation and it doesn't turn into a disaster."

Aelin bit her lip, trying to shove away the images of Sam that filled her mind. With a start, she realized the similarities between how her relationship with Sam had begun and what was happening with Rowan right now: The dislike and the bickering that stood in sharp contrast with how well they worked together. The realization that not everything always was how it seemed to be. The realization that always seemed to change everything.

"So yes, I thought about not coming. For about a minute. Then I went to buy you flowers to soften the blow of seeing me instead of whatever guy you pictured WingedWarrior to be."

This time it was Aelin who chuckled.

"Sorry you had to throw them away."

"It's alright. I should have expected that reaction."

Somehow, hearing this gave her heart a small pang. Almost too late Aelin picked something up he'd said earlier, rolling it around in her mind.

"You said it's not exactly a secret that I don't like you. But what about your feelings towards me? They're not exactly warm either."

"I guess not."

"Then why did you come? Why not leave me waiting in that restaurant?"

"Because despite what you might think, I'm not a shitty person," Rowan said, leaning back. "You didn't deserve to be ditched by someone you were obviously looking forward to meeting. Even if he turned out ... different than you expected. I figured it would be better than the alternative."

"That was kind of you," Aelin said, softly, knowing she would have reacted differently in his situation.

Rowan shrugged and hesitated as if he wasn't sure if he should add whatever was crossing his mind. One of his fingers twitched, a nervous habit she'd only seen once or twice in the field. 

After a deep breath, his eyes returned to hers, fixating her with the kind of determination that people bore before they did something that changed the course of the world, even if it was merely their own small part of it.

"It wasn't entirely selfless," Rowan admitted, voice strong but carefully neutral. Under normal circumstances, it would've made Aelin wary if someone used that tone. Right now, combined with those few words, it made her heart inexplicably beat faster.

"What do you mean?" Aelin asked, mirroring his tone while her fingers formed knots on her lap, just out of sight. 

"It means that I was looking forward to that date too. To meeting Fireheart in the flesh. Because just like you enjoyed talking to WingedWarrior, I liked talking to her. A lot."

"Oh," Aelin made, at a loss for words. It was good then that their food arrived and saved them from the growing silence Rowan's stark honesty had thrown over them.

Sadly, shoving food in her mouth didn't make the situation less awkward. The sounds of chewing didn't miraculously make the quiet easier to bear, didn't stop his words from echoing in her head, didn't stop her from wanting to say something, anything, in return. 

Rowan's eyes were downcast, looking into his bowl of ramen. He seemed at a loss. Aelin watched the dawning horror on his face as he realized there was no way he'd get through this with his dignity (or shirt) intact. As if hearing her thoughts, his eyes shot to her and she couldn't help but grin around her rice. 

"Something the matter, Whitethorn?"

He narrowed his eyes at her before looking back at his bowl. It was ridiculous, really. They'd eaten ramen so often in the past that she'd lost count and yet today was the first time he actually hesitated because he might make a mess of himself by eating. It was kind of cute that he worried about something mundane as this in the middle of something that could change their relationship forever. Somehow it set her at ease. 

"Don't worry in case of spills," Aelin quipped. "I've seen you looking far worse."

His eyebrows shot up and with them the corner of his mouth. "Is that the best compliment you can come up with, Galanthynius?"

"I could say that I hope you spill something so you have to take off that shirt and show off that splendid physique of yours but that might give you ideas."

And just like that, she saw, truly saw, what it was like to make Rowan Whitethorn blush. Not a hint of red, not a rosy brush of color. A real, deep blush that his tan skin did nothing to hide. The knowledge that he was a blusher made Aelin grin in delight. Rowan suddenly looked very alarmed. Sadly, it only took him a moment to regain his footing. 

"It's nothing you haven't seen before. You keep staring at me in the locker room often enough."

Aelin gaped. "I do not stare at you!"

Rowan smirked his insufferable smirk and took a spoon full of broth. He easily caught the napkin she threw at him. 

"Sure, you keep telling that to yourself."

"I don't need to keep telling it to myself, it's a fact."

"Oh. I bet you could describe the scars I have pretty accurately."

"We've been working together for ages, Whitethorn. I had to patch you up more than once. Of course, I could. We all could."

He hummed in a way that made it very clear he didn't believe her. Aelin rolled her eyes.

"Like you're any different. You could name most of my scars as well."

"True," he agreed to her surprise. His voice was all of a sudden much more serious than their banter had been mere moments before. "I know about the scars on your back."

Ah. That. 

Aelin swallowed, looking down. Well wasn't that a cheery topic for a first date. 

"How did you get them?" 

And there it was. One of the questions she dreaded the most. Judging by his tone, he probably knew it, too. Still, his voice was careful, neutral. She appreciated it.

"You know my record."

"Yes. But it doesn't keep a handy list of your scars and how you got them."

Aelin sucked in a cheek and nodded, absentmindedly, weighing her options. In the end, the decision was easier to make than she'd suspected.

"I got whipped," she said, stating the obvious to anyone who'd ever seen these kinds of scars. She knew Rowan had. He didn't say anything.

"Several years ago, I made some bad decisions. I was betrayed and I fucked up. It cost my ... partner his life. And I ended up in the hands of people who had a lot of fun trying to see how long it would take to break me to get the information they wanted. Turns out, it was pretty damn long because they had a lot of time to hurt me. As my back and other parts of me show." She flashed him a joyless smile that wasn't supposed to fool anyone. "It was actually Chaol and Dorian that got me out. Who helped me to come back."

Before that fell to pieces too. She didn't say it out loud but she was sure Rowan could still hear it as he merely nodded, food forgotten in his bowl.

Good job, Aelin. Mentioning one of the most traumatic experiences of your life, your dead lover, and two of your ex-boyfriends at the first date. This gotta be a new record.

Before she could say anything to turn the conversation around, Rowan's next words shocked her to silence. 

"I was married once," he said out of the blue.

Aelin blinked. "I didn't know that."

"I don't make a habit of going around advertising it. It was ... a long time ago."

"What happened?"

"She died," Rowan said and for a moment, she thought it was all he had to say on the matter. Until he looked at her and she saw old pain digging its way to the surface.

"She was killed," he clarified, making the situation worse. "While being pregnant with our first child."

It was like a punch in the gut. Every word took her breath away, shifted the way she'd seen Rowan over the years and evaluate his actions, trying to make the new piece of the puzzle fit.

"It was my fault. In my ... I guess you could say thirst for glory I made enemies. And even when the threats against me and my family started, I was arrogant enough to believe I could stop them before something happened. I was wrong. And they paid the price."

"I'm sorry," she said, feeling inadequate before the words even left her mouth.

"So am I. About Lyria. About you and your partner."

Aelin only nodded. They fell into a silence she wasn't sure she could bear and was less sure she could break. Not after what he had just shared with her. A pain usually hidden so deep, she'd never even suspected it was there. True, Rowan might not be the most cheery and outgoing person but this was something she hadn't suspected. The fact that he'd shared something so raw with her shook her more than what she'd shared with him moments before. Aelin wondered how much it had changed him. The thought of him with a family, a wife, was not something she could picture easily. 

"It seems like we have something in common after all," Aelin said after some time, at a loss how to restart the budding conversation. "Making terrible decisions."

Rowan huffed. "Well, not all the time."

"No?"

"No. I think this, going on a date with you, was a very good decision."

Aelin swallowed, feeling beyond naked, beyond raw under his pine green eyes in the shadow of the stark truths surrounding them. 

"Why did you tell me this? Why now?"

"Because I wanted you to know something that neither Agent Galanthynius nor Fireheart knew about me. A truth for a truth."

Aelin felt her view of the world, of him, shift further. The question was: Where was her, their, place in that new world view of hers? How did the new picture of Rowan fit into all of this? 

Rowan. The man she'd started referring to by his given name instead of his last without even realizing it. The man who was neither the despised squad mate she hardly wanted to be in the same room with nor the too-perfect-to-be-real man she'd met online and came to care about more than she liked to admit. The man who was both. The man who had taken a chance with her despite knowing how badly it could backfire. Who actually seemed to want to make this work. Maybe for the same reason, she started to want to: Because she was too stubborn to give up the chance to get to know the real Buzzard just because she hated what she thought she had known about Rowan Whitethorn.

Her eyes found his again and as they met, the decision seemed clear, effortless almost.

"Truth for a truth?" Aelin asked.

He nodded, waiting.

"Well then, Rowan Whitethorn. It seems like I owe you another truth." Aelin leant forward, almost as if she was telling him a secret. She saw amusement spark in his eyes, overshadowing the wariness she'd seen before, and grinned at him.

"I don't think this was a bad idea either."

His answering smile made everything else fade away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter actually took the longest because it was really hard to get their voices right. I'm not sure I succeeded and if I didn't, I am very sorry. I hope you could enjoy the chapter anyway!


	6. Chapter 6

Conversation and silence flowed between them in equal measures while they slowly made their way back to Aelin's apartment. The night was warmer than expected. A warm spring breeze kept playing with her hair. She'd long given up trying to keep it out of her eyes. Instead, she threw her head back, laughing at something Rowan had said.

They'd abandoned the heavy topics some time ago as well as everything related to work. It was like an unspoken agreement to not breach that subject and instead concentrate on actually getting to know the person behind their variety of masks. And the more they talked, the more Aelin realized she liked what she fund.

From time to time she still stumbled, but that was expected. Especially considering their strong feelings towards each other not even 48 hours ago. It still wasn't easy to connect all the fragments to get a clear picture but at least now she knew that the picture she'd had before had been woefully wrong and incomplete. Now she longed for more time to collect more pieces to finally be able to see Rowan Whitethorn like nobody else saw him.

"You know, I can't remember the last time I had this much fun," Rowan said. He gave another one of those wicked grins that started to do things to her she'd never admit. "Not counting anything involving explosives, of course."

"Of course," Aelin echoed in mock seriousness. Rowan chuckled - one of those sounds she desperately wanted to hear more often.

"I had a lot of fun, too," she replied, coming to a stop when they, too soon, reached her apartment building. 

"No regrets?" Rowan asked. While his voice was steady, almost a bit too neutral, Aelin was well aware how much weight the question actually bore. Because it was no different for her. So she smiled at him.

"No regrets."

"Good. That's ... good."

Aelin bit on her lip. "You know, we could do that again. Once we're back from the next mission."

"I'd like that," Rowan said, the smirk having softened to a small smile.

Silence fell between them but this time the air was heavier than before. They were both aware that things could go two ways now: Either they parted ways or they made their way up to Aelin's together for the night, changing whatever it was between them even more. 

Somehow, this was not something that felt quite right with her. Not yet, anyway. Not after their relationship had already changed so drastically in such a short time. It wouldn't be wise to add yet another ingredient to the mix, especially not on the night before they had to go to their next mission together.

"I won't invite you up," Aelin said, words rushed. She could feel her cheeks heat up.

Rowan's eyebrows shot up. He looked a bit amused.

"Good. I wouldn't have come up with you anyway."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Aelin asked, narrowing her eyes.

He looked like was suppressing a grin. "We're leaving again tomorrow and we both need a good night's sleep. We'll probably not get it anytime soon."

Aelin hummed, trying to ignore the disappointment that came with his agreement. Would anyone have told her before today that instead of dying from the shock she'd be disappointed that Rowan Whitethorn for once agreed with her, she'd have laughed.

Instead, Rowan's laugh pulled her from her musings.

"Don't look so gutted, Aelin. You'll get your chance to look at that 'splendid physique' you seem to enjoy so much." A dark look flickered through his eyes as he made a few step towards her, closing the gap between them. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. "And I'll be able to see that lucky underwear for myself." 

"So sure of yourself." Instead of sounding chiding, her voice was a low, velvet hum. Rowan's eyes were glued to hers, too close to see anything else. Their noses were almost touching. He tilted his head a bit as if he wanted better access to her lips. Everything in Aelin had gone still apart from her rapidly beating heart.

"Shouldn't I be? With the way you've been looking all night," Rowan asked, words hardly more than a breath against her lips. He was so close she could feel his mouth brushing against hers without kissing her. But rather than deepening the touch of their lips, he abandoned hers, letting his travel over her cheek instead. Thinking became incredibly hard. 

"Don't think I haven't seen you trying to figure out if I am wearing my 'lucky underwear' tonight, Buzzard," she managed at last. A deep chuckle rattled his chest, sending vibrations down her body thanks to their proximity. 

Aelin's eyes fluttered close as her world narrowed down to the barely tangible touch of Rowan's mouth. She could hardly feel more than the heat he was breathing over her skin, sending goose bumps and a pleasant shiver over her body. 

As he reached her ear, he halted and with him her breath. 

"Make no mistake, Fireheart. When I bed you, you will need the time to recover. You won't be able to walk straight for days, let alone go on a mission."

Heat pooled low in her belly, forming a tight, hot spool of desire that threatened to snap at any moment. Aelin had to bite down on her lip to stop the treacherous sound wanting to leave her mouth. She could feel Rowan smiling against her jaw before he started to make his slow descent towards her neck. The wet trail he left behind burned hot on her skin. Without meaning to, she angled her head to give him better access to her throat. Rowan made an appreciative hum before he travelled further. Aelin was sure that by now he could feel her thrumming heart through her skin. 

As if he'd heard her, he stopped his track, placing his lips open and firm against her pulse point, the first real kiss he'd placed against her skin. It soared and burned to her core, heating her in a way that took her ability to think. She rather felt than heard Rowan chuckle, a deep, dark sound that send vibrations down her body.   
A tiny gasp tore from her throat. Embarrassing under any under circumstances if it wasn't for Rowan's reaction to it. His breath hitched and his body pressed closer to hers. 

It was then, as Rowan decided to scratch his teeth slowly over the soft flesh beneath his mouth, that Aelin woke from her rigor. Without thinking her hands found their way to his hair, pressing Rowan closer to herself while burying her face in his soft strands. She breathed him in, his fresh cologne that reminded her of pines and the first hint of snow on a winter night. 

He made a sound that spoke of pure contempt and need, adding fuel to the fire in Aelin's belly. Not able to stand her own inactivity any longer, she used her hands in Rowan's hair to tear him away from her. Ignoring his dazed eyes and the small growl of protest, she held his face in her hands and pressed her forehead against his. The gesture felt too intimate, incredibly at odds with their history and yet ... yet it was what she'd always wanted to do with her Buzzard. Holding him, breathing him in. Teasing him. 

Slowly, Aelin placed her lips at the corner of his mouth, adding soft pressure to the careful touch. Rowan stilled under her hands, immovable as the sniper he sometimes was. He waited, with more patience than she could muster, for whatever she planned to do with him. To him. 

She could feel the heaviness of his hands settle on her hips, immeasurable soft and careful. Aelin let her lips wander. Like Rowan before, she never put enough pressure behind the touch of her lips to make it count as a kiss but still, it felt so much more intimate than that.

Almost as much as his touch, the realization of how right this felt shook her to the core. The pictures of Whitethorn and Buzzard blended together, forming Rowan, forming the man trembling beneath her lips. The man she wanted to shake to his core just as much as he shook her. 

Her lips reached the other corner of his mouth, pressing another barely there kiss into it. She could feel Rowan's desire to turn his head and claim her lips in a true kiss but she held his head in place. They walked a fine line of stubbornness, control, and submission and it was hard, so very, very hard, not to want to see how it translated in the bedroom. 

Aelin took a shuddering intake of air, grazing her mouth over his lower lips way too softly before she leant her cheek against his. For a moment, all she could do was try to regain her breath and stop her heart from being louder than her thoughts. 

They were already way too close to the edge, to the point of no return, and they had not even kissed yet. If it wasn't for her whirling mind, she would've laughed.

As it was, Aelin pressed herself closer to Rowan, making sure he was as aware of every inch of their bodies touching as she was. Then she leant in, lips almost touching his ear as she whispered:

"Don't worry. I won't be the only one who won't be able to walk afterwards ."

Before he could do more than growl in frustration, Aelin stepped back and gave Rowan a wicked grin that spoke of more control than she actually felt.

Rowan was staring at her. Pine-green eyes fixating her in a way that made her regret having moved away. They stared at each other for a long moment, both of them trying to will themselves to calm down. 

It was Rowan, who broke the silence and the tension between them by taking a step back. He blinked a few times and combed his hand through his hair, mussing it up even more than before. He still looked dazed when he shot her a glance. And while there was a soft smile playing around his lips, his eyes had become serious again as they were searching hers.

"The mission is not the only reason I won't come up with you tonight, Aelin," he said, his voice surprising steady given the fact how on edge they both were. Every word held a certain weight but before she could think about it, his next words stopped her in her track.

"I found I rather like you and I don't want us to fuck this up by going to fast."

Us. Because hey were in this together. Because they were both hot-headed, stubborn, uncompromising idiots and it would be all too easy to fall back into those rolls together. Especially after it had felt so comfortable and safe for so many years. It was not a safety Aelin wanted to return to.

She returned his smile. "Well then, try not to fuck it up."

"Me?" Rowan laughed. "I think the problem is you, Princess. Always out for a fight with your heart of fire."

"Hm, always with the princess. What about fire-breathing bitch-queen? I rather like that one."

"I'll make sure to tell Lorcan, he'll be thrilled."

Aelin rolled her eyes just as his grin widened. Rowan shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded at the street.

"I should get going. Tomorrow is going to be a long day." 

"If by 'tomorrow' you mean 'the next few weeks' then yes," she joked, although it was rather weak. While her tone was still light, she could already feel the weight of their decision to separate work and whatever it was that as forming between pressing down on her. She didn't want to wait for another night like this. She was sick of waiting. She wanted more of this, more of him. Of Rowan, of Buzzard. Not of Whitethorn.

"Have dinner with me. When we get back."

Aelin's eyebrows rose. "Do you even know how to ask a woman on a date or do you just demand it?"

He was merely looking at her, waiting for her to agree. Which of course she did.

Aelin huffed. "Fine. But this time I'm choosing the restaurant."

"Am I right to assume that I will likely die of sugar poisoning before it's even over?"

"Of course not. I still have a need for you afterwards."

"Need, huh?"

"Sure. Calories don't burn themselves, you know."

Rowan laughed again and shook his head before he turned around to go.

"See you tomorrow, Fireheart."

With a smile on her lips, she watched him stroll down the street until a thought crossed her mind.

"Hey, Rowan?" She yelled after him. He stopped to turn around and look at her.

"If you tell the others about any of this, I'm going to gut you. I swear by your pretty face."

Despite the distance, she could hear the amusement in his voice clear as day.

"Goodnight, Aelin."

Yeah. Good night, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with this, the main story is finished. BUT I will add an epilogue although not right away as I haven't written it yet and my schedule is kinda busy over the next week. In any case, I hope you have enjoyed "Blind Hearts". Thanks for reading it and for all the comments and kudos! Feel free to visit me at my Tumblr (bioticblackops) where I'm still doing prompts. Mostly it's shorter fics but sometimes these things happen ... you never know with the demands of fictional people.
> 
> ♥


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Instead of a small epilogue I wrote a final chapter that's longer than some of the others and a bit different. I still hope you enjoy it. Thanks for the patience and for sticking with me :-) I'll hopefully soon resume filling the other prompts again now that this is done.

**Fireheart:** I'm bored.

 **WingedWarrior:** ...

 **WingedWarrior:** What do you mean ‘you're bored‘

 **Fireheart:** That I'm bored

 **WingedWarrior:** We're at work, Aelin!

 **Fireheart:** Pfff

 **Fireheart:** We're on standby. That hardly counts.

 **WingedWarrior:** ...

 **Fireheart:** Stop "..." me!

 **WingedWarrior:** It WOULD count if you actually did something, Fireheart. Then you wouldn't be bored either.

 **Fireheart:** like what? Writing mission reports like you?

 **WingedWarrior:** Someone has to write them. Or in my case, has to re-write them because SOMEBODY used emojis in her report and wrote "that gods damned bastard" whenever she meant Lorcan

 **Fireheart:** :)

 **WingedWarrior:** Stop grinning and stop being a pain in my ass.

 **Fireheart:** But I'm bored!

 **WingedWarrior:** Sleep

 **Fireheart:** Like hell I'm going to my room. Aedion is there and I have no interest in walking in on him and Lysandra. Again.

 **WingedWarrior:** Point taken.

 **Fireheart:** I wouldn't be bored if we were allowed to go out

 **WingedWarrior:** No.

 **Fireheart:** Oh come on, Buzzard!

 **WingedWarrior:** No.

 **Fireheart:** ...

 **WingedWarrior:** The last time you all got drunk and YOU started a bar brawl and had Lorcan thrown in jail for it

 **Fireheart:** Good evening

 **WingedWarrior:** No.

 **Fireheart:** Would've been better if we'd left him to rot there

 **WingedWarrior:** Elide would've been thrilled.

 **Fireheart:** Eh, she'd have come around. She likes me better anyway

 **WingedWarrior:** ...

 **WingedWarrior:** They're married, Aelin.

 **Fireheart:** Something I will NEVER understand

 **WingedWarrior:** You know, he has you saved as "fire-breathing bitch-queen" in his phone.

 **Fireheart:** I saved him as "Elide's biggest mistake" in mine so I guess that's fair

 **Fireheart:** ...

 **Fireheart:** You know, I can hear you sighing from here

 **WingedWarrior:** I need to work, Fireheart.

 **Fireheart:** Noooo!

 **Fireheart:** I'm dying of boredom, Buzzard

 **Fireheart:** Actual death

 **Fireheart:** Can you hear my heart beat?

 **Fireheart:** No. Because it stopped. Because of boredom

 **Fireheart:** RIP Aelin, a queen of her people who died because of boredom

 **Fireheart:** ...

 **Fireheart:** Let's do something fun

 **WingedWarrior:** Like what

 **Fireheart:** I'm not wearing any underwear ;)

A loud bang followed by an even louder curse broke the silence that had begun to drive her crazy. The unexpected sound made a giggle spill over Aelin's lips despite her attempt to bite it back. She could feel Rowan's glare from the other side of the room before she even turned around.

As he opened his mouth to no doubt reprimand her, the door to one of the two bedrooms opened and a very disheveled looking Lysandra appeared. Disheveled, but not sleepy as Aelin noticed. Good thing she refrained from going into that room after all.

"What's up with him?" Her friend asked with raised eyebrows, pointing her chin to Rowan who was still rubbing the knee he'd banged against the table. His uncomfortable shifting made Aelin grin even harder.

"Who knows?"

Lysandra turned around, brows narrowing further as she looked at her friend who tried (and failed) to look innocent.

"What's up with you?"

Aelin spread her hands. "Nothing."

Well aware that she was missing something, Lysandra's keen eyes traveled between her two squad mates. When she couldn't figure out what was happening, she gave up and wandered to the coffee maker in the small kitchenette of their current hideout. At least they had that small luxury while waiting for the next briefing that told them if they were still needed in the area or if they could head home. Aelin hoped for the latter for more reason than one. A long hot bath was one. The man who was still rubbing his knee was another.

Aelin threw a glance in his direction but Rowan's eyes were on the mission reports again. Or rather on his phone as Aelin noticed when hers vibrated.

 **WingedWarrior:** Are you TRYING to kill me?!

 **Fireheart:** I don't know what you mean.

 **WingedWarrior:** ...

 **WingedWarrior:** Please tell me you're not serious

 **Fireheart:** :)

 **WingedWarrior:** Aelin...

 **Fireheart:** Yeeees?

With a grunt, Lysandra sat down next to her on the couch, mug of coffee for herself in one hand, one for Aelin in the other. Her friend gave her a quick grateful smile before her attention went back to her phone. Lys sighed, no doubt having guessed who she was texting with. Or at least she had a vague idea. Aelin still hadn't told her who Buzzard was. They were taking things slow, still trying to get over the fact how quickly everything had changed between them. That the person they liked least in the world all of a sudden turned out to be the most important one. It had only been a few weeks and Aelin still was torn between the fact that it felt so utterly normal and the weirdness of it all. No need to draw their squad mates and friends into it. Or her cousin. Gods, Aedion would probably get an aneurysm when he found out...

"You are oddly quiet," Lysandra noted.

Aelin shrugged. She could almost feel her friend roll her eyes.

"Or is your Buzzard getting all your attention now?" There was a small edge in her voice. Aelin knew exactly where it came from. Not from the fact that she'd found someone she liked (Lysandra had Aedion and did install that blind dating app on her phone after all) but because her friend refused to talk about her date with the man she'd been fawning over for months. It felt weird not being able to tell her best friend one of the most important things in her life but the circumstances were ... more complicated than expected.

Speaking of more complicated... Aelin's phone buzzed.

 **WingedWarrior:** We are at WORK and you are not wearing any underwear?!

 **Fireheart:** Are we pretending now that it's a new occurrence that I'm wearing my "lucky underwear", Buzzard ;)

There was a muffled groan coming from the other end of the room again. Aelin pressed together her lips to stop her amusement from spilling over.

"Could you stop that moaning, Whitethorn?!" Lysandra snapped. "We don't all need to be part of whatever smutty sexts you write with your girlfriend."

Aelin tried not to look at him. She really did. She also failed. Her eyes found his on their own accord in a quick passing of shared blame as their cheeks heated and they tried to look innocent.

"Oh hell no!"

Aelin's head snapped around at the sound of Lysandra's voice, seeing the sole attention of her best friend was on her. Her eyes were wide with shock and the kind of understanding Aelin didn't want to see there, not when it came to this.

Lysandra stared at her and Aelin could feel herself pale as the shock settled in and words uncharacteristically failed her. For several long seconds they just stared at each other while the world around them shifted and with it some simple truths that had existed ever since they started working together: Aelin hated Rowan Whitethorn so Lysandra hated him by default. Now the lines weren't as clear anymore. The world was no longer black and white. The battle Aelin's heart and mind still sometimes faught extended onto her best friend. The same best friend whose head whipped around to stare at their equally pale squad mate.

To Rowan's credit, he did not waver. His pine green eyes looked right back at Lysandra, almost challenging her to say something. And say something she did.

"What the almighty fuck, Aelin?! What-"

Lysandra did not get to finish whatever else she was going to yell as Aelin almost threw herself on the other woman to silence her before she could wake up the others. The way Aelin's night was going, she shouldn't be surprised that she didn't get that wish either. As they tumbled to the ground with a rather embarrassing shriek and a loud bang, two doors flew open and the rest of their team filled into the room - barely awake but weapons ready and on high alert. It took them a few seconds to realize there was no imminent danger buttwo of them in what looked like an impromptu wrestling match.

"What the hell is going on here?" Fenrys rasped, voice thick with sleep and confusion.

On the ground, Aelin and Lysandra froze, the latter being pinned by the former. She opened her mouth to answer but found herself almost choking on several blond strands instead. Spitting them out, she glared at their owner, still pinning her to the ground.

Aelin for her part had found her voice. Much to her own surprise, she sounded very calm as she said: "I just wanted to show Lysandra a new technique of disarming someone I read about."

Everybody in the room, including Lysandra, stared at her as a heavy silence settled over them.

Lorcan was the first to break it by muttering "fuck this" and vanishing back into the bedroom he'd slept in, clearly not interested in whatever was happening now that nobody was being killed. For the first time since she had the misfortune of meeting the bastard, Lorcan actually was somewhat close to likeable.

Fenrys on the other hand still stared at them, as did Aedion and Rowan.

"At two thirty in the fucking night?!" Fenrys demanded. His hair was a mess from sleep as well as from slipping on the rumbled shirt. It seemed that he wanted to face whatever danger was awaiting at least somewhat dressed. His thinking hadn't extended to pants so he was standing there sporting boxers with what looked like small wolves howling at the moon. Aelin decided not to take a closer look. Instead she shrugged.

"No time like the present, right?"

"Oh for crying out loud," Lysandra muttered. She used her friends distraction to shove her away and wiggle out from under her. When she halfway succeeded and they were both sitting on the ground, she pointed at Fenrys.

"You, go back to bed."

Her finger wandered over to Aedion who had miraculously not uttered a single word since he stumbled into the room.

"You too." He opened his mouth. "Now. No questions."

Aedion closed his mouth again. Next, Lysandra turned to Aelin.

"You, to the bathroom. And you," she turned to Rowan. "You don't even think of going anywhere."

Rowan merely raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Nobody moved.

"Did I stutter?" Lysandra bit out in a way that startled everybody. Aelin wondered if caring for a teenager had given her friend the power of the mom-voice but she refrained from asking which was probably the only wise decision she'd made tonight.

Instead, she got up and shuffled to the small bathroom they all had to share while they were stuck in the tiny apartment. Lysandra followed her and closed the door behind them, not paying any attention to the men outside. She leaned against the door, crossed her arms over her chest, and took a deep breath.

"Tell me this isn't what it looks like. Tell me you're not fucking Rowan bloody Whitethorn."

"I am not fucking him."

Lysandra exhaled with relief. "Good."

"I am dating him."

Aelin expected Lysandra to scream. To yell at her. To have some kind of dramatic reaction that would fit the whole way the night was going. What she didn't expect was her best friend staring at her at what felt like a full minute before sitting down next to her on the crappy bathroom floor of their crappy bathroom and say "huh."

"That's it? That's all you have to say about this after screaming at me before?" Aelin asked, incredulously.

"Might be the shock," Lysandra muttered before she turned around, clearly searching for the right question to ask next. There were quite a few after all.

Aelin decided to try and regain control over the situation. As much as she could, anyway. It was not like she'd planned for anyone to know about this anytime soon.

"You remember Buzzard?"

Lysandra rolled her eyes. "No, I forgot the one guy you've been going on and on about for months on end even before you met-"

She stopped in the middle of the sentence, head whipping around. Aelin bit her lip.

"Oh hell no!"

"Oh hell yes."

"Whitethorn?! Rowan fucking Whitethorn? He is Buzzard?"

"Yup."

"Oh hell no! Fuck, no! No!"

"That was pretty much my reaction. Sometimes still is."

"The how did you go from 'fuck no' to 'fuck me'?"

Aelin choked on an unexpected laugh. "I didn't. We didn't. Not yet, anyway. We're taking things ... slow."

Her best friend kept staring at her, her delicate features an even bigger mixture of surprise than before.

"Gods. This is serious."

Aelin swallowed. "Yes."

"I don't even know what to say, to be honest. I might need some time to process that."

"Don't worry, I get that. I still need that sometimes."

"I mean ... Whitethorn..."

Aelin huffed a laugh. "I know, right?"

"Hm," Lysandra made. "Is that the reason why you didn't tell me?"

There was nothing accusing in her voice. No hurt, just mild curiosity as if she already knew the answer. It's a very Lysandra thing to do, Aelin decided. She still answered.

"We're still trying to figure things out. It's not that simple. Our ... dislike wasn't exactly a secret."

"Dislike? You once set his pants on fire. On purpose. While he was still wearing them."

Aelin grinned. "Might still do that."

"Sure you will, fire-breathing bitch-queen. But for a whole different reason now."

They both laughed, more about the absurdity of the situation than what they refer to as the "pants incident" when Lysandra yawned.

"You know, this usually would be the perfect topic for a midnight conversation with tons of ice-cream."

"But not between missions on the bathroom floor of a crappy apartment?" Aelin guessed.

"Yeah."

"Fair enough."

"Don't think you're off the hook."

"Never."

For a moment Lysandra was quiet. "That thing with Whitethorn you have ..."

"You can call it a relationship, you know?"

"Coming from the woman who is still in denial about me living with her cousin."

"Because it's Aedion!"

"How grow up, Galathynius! Anyway, your relationship with Whitethorn ... it doesn't mean that I now have to be nice to him, right?"

"Please don't. He might die of shock."

"And we can't have that."

"Not until I got a chance to show him my 'lucky underwear' and get him out of his pants without fire involved," Aelin said and waggled her eyebrows in the most un-suggestive way she could imagine. Lysandra burst out laughing and didn't stop for a good while.

\---

There was no screaming. Rowan couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad one. The apartment was eerily quiet since everybody had withdrawn. Aedion had been the last, staring at the closed bathroom door with his fiancé and cousin behind with the usual mixture of terror and confusion before he'd looked at Rowan with Aelin's eyes, trying to figure out what the hell was happening. When Rowan didn't move or supply an explanation, Aedion muttered something and went back to bed. Now it was Rowan's turn to stare at the bathroom door, waiting for it to open and tell him how badly they'd fucked up.

He had a very good idea what Lysandra had to say about them, considering she was as much of a fan of him as Aelin had been a couple of weeks ago. Aelin might be the most stubborn person in existence when it came to things she wanted, refusing to give them up or give ground at all. But sometimes he still wondered if she truly wanted this. Him.

When the door finally opened, it startled him out of his downward spiral. Looking up from the paperwork he'd been gazing at without comprehending a single word, he saw more than heard the women exchange some quiet words. He scanned Aelin's posture, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Looking for any change, any clue that told him something had changed between them. He found none. Aelin seemed relaxed, happy almost. His eyes flickered to Lysandra just in time to see her glaring at him. The threat of violence, the protectiveness she displayed only for the few people she truly loved, was written plainly on her beautiful face. It spoke volumes of what she thought and promised that she had still a few words of choice for him. But not now as it seemed.

With a simple "good night" she vanished into Aedion's room. Rowan blinked, unsure what to make of this. He didn't have much time to mull over it as Aelin plopped down on a chair opposite of his with a sigh, grabbing for his mug. She glared at him when she found it empty and put it back down.

"So?" Rowan asked, breaking the silence.

"So?"

"Did I get the seal of approval?"

Aelin snorted. "From Lysandra? About as likely as me getting it from Lorcan."

"But Lorcan's opinion doesn't decide what happens to us."

She looked at him, confusion written all over her face. "But Lysandra's does?"

"She's your best friend."

"Yes. But when have you ever known me to listen to anybody?" She joked, smile playing around her lips. The urge to kiss her was suddenly on the forefront of his mind as his eyes traced their shape, the silky shine her favorite honey lip balm had put on them. It took all his willpower not to lean forward and press his mouth against hers. Not while they were at work. Not after what had happened tonight.

"Besides, Lysandra only wants me to be happy."

Rowan's eyes snapped back to hers, searching for the answer to a question he'd been too afraid to ask out loud even if it was haunting his every moment. He swallowed hard.

"And are you? Happy, I mean?"

Aelin's smile softened as she grabbed his hand over the table, lifting it to her lips. Her kiss was even softer than he'd anticipated, ghosting over his scarred knuckles.

"Yes."

The word was nothing but a breath against his skin, sending a shiver down his spine for a dozen different reasons. Her eyes never left his face but for what she was looking he couldn't say. So he didn't say anything. Instead, he gently tucked his hand free to bury it in her hair a heartbeat later and pull her to him with as much care as she'd displayed before.

His eyes fluttered close as their foreheads touched and he allowed himself one deep intake of air, breathing her in. His Fireheart that managed to warm his heart despite the long cold that had settled there.

"What now?" He murmured, not caring that someone could walk in any minute. Right now he needed this. Her. Gods, he needed her already ...

"Now you stop worrying, let me kiss you, and then we're going to resume our discussion."

"What discussion?"

"About my lucky underwear, of course."

Rowan groaned. "Aelin, stop trying to kill-"

He didn't get any further as a warm pair of lips stole his breath and every thought in his head.

After a moment, Aelin moved back a bit, just enough to murmur against his lips: "Where'd be the fun in that, Buzzard?"

Not waiting for an answer, she leant in again for another, longer, deeper kiss. Rowan smiled. Where indeed.


End file.
